


Teach Me a Lesson

by mightierthanthecanon



Category: Quantico (TV)
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 19:24:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6091530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightierthanthecanon/pseuds/mightierthanthecanon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their breakup, Caleb has trouble sleeping, and Shelby has trouble with everything else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach Me a Lesson

Shelby had thought she knew how difficult Quantico could be. Dealing with weekly training exercises, learning about her sister, having her parents brought up over and over again—it was, without doubt, the hardest thing she had ever experienced. Still, it was nothing compared to Quantico without Caleb.

It would almost have been easier if there actually were a seismic shift in the universe—if a rift opened up in the ground and swallowed her whole. At least that way Shelby would be able to give up, to let go and let her emotions take over her, cry until she ran out of tears. But nothing changed. Shelby still saw Caleb during their mandatory 5am runs and weekly marksmanship drills, and they still worked well together—still knew each other’s blind spots—so they were still paired together on missions and research assignments. Everything was the same…except it wasn’t. The laughter between long stretches of brainstorming, the bursts of inspiration in bed (or out of bed), the long late-night talks that kept them up till 3 and 4 in the morning—it was as if it never existed. And Shelby didn’t know how much she had relied on it until it was gone.

It was okay, though, as long as Caleb was okay. A few weeks after the breakup, however, she started to get the impression that he wasn’t quite as okay as he claimed. First, it was the blowup at Liam over his test results. Then, a mistake that would have gotten blown a sensitive mission for his team if Raina hadn’t been covering for him. The last straw was the gun range.

She got the call at 2am. It was Mark Weaver, one of Caleb’s “friends” who worked at the shooting range. 

“He’s been here since 11 and he won’t leave,” Mark said, “I thought he might listen to you.”

Shelby hadn’t woken up completely, and it took her a moment to register what Mark was saying. When she did, however, she bolted out of bed, warnings from Claire and Clayton Haas echoing in the back of her mind.

“What’s he up to this time?” she asked, smiling wide and false so Mark could hear it on the phone. 

Mark sighed on the other line, and Shelby ran to her dresser, throwing clothes on. If she showed up half dressed, Mark would know something was up, and that wasn’t in anyone’s best interest.

“Stripping and reassembling the rifles,” Mark answered. “Do you guys have a test tomorrow or something?”

Shelby’s heart dropped like a stone.

“I’ll be right there.”

—

It only took a few minutes of apologetic smiles and tired jokes to convince Mark that absolutely nothing was going on (aided, perhaps, by his fervent desire not to know), and soon Shelby found herself face to face with Caleb. Classes, assignments, and workouts notwithstanding, it was the first time she’d really _looked_ at him in over a month, and her eyes roved over his body in silent assessment.

Caleb was thinner, paler than he’d been the last time they spoke, and slumped set of his shoulders made him look even sadder than usual. Or, more likely, he was sadder than usual. Not only had she forced him to see things he didn’t want to see, she’d broken his heart, and hadn’t even been there to pick up the pieces. _It isn’t your job to take care of_ him, she told herself, but it was. Of course it was. Who else was going to?

Guilt washed over her like a wave, and she leaned against the door, watching him put together a Remington 700 without even looking at it. 

“Hey Mom,” he said, hands still moving over the sniper rifle. “Come to pick me up from detention?”

She sighed, the corners of her mouth lifting in a tired smile. “Something like that. What are you doing here, Caleb?”

He brandished the reassembled rifle like a QVC host. “Practice.” 

“At two o’clock in the morning?”

Caleb turned to look at her, and his eyes found hers immediately. 

Shelby swallowed.

“My body’s gotten used to being awake at odd hours,” he said pointedly. “What else should I be doing?”

Shelby’s breath caught in her throat, an apology on the tip of her tongue. It was a leading question, of course it was. But he didn't need to go to all this trouble just to make her feel bad. She felt bad already. She felt bad all the time. 

“Caleb…

“Is Mark still out there?”

Thrown by the question, Shelby glanced at the door. She could still see the shadow of Mark’s boots.

“Looks like it.”

She waited for him to suggest a way out, to crack a smile and come up with a inappropriate but hilarious plan, but he didn’t. It occurred to her then that the outrageous confidence that she associated him with had been fake, at first—that he’d needed her to believe in him before he could believe in himself. She squared her shoulders.

“Well, it’s a good thing he knows us.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, hold my hips and follow my lead,” she said, briskly to hide the emotion in her voice. “And put that rifle away.”

“Yes, ma’am. Right away, ma’am,” Caleb smirked, raising his hand in mock salute.

Shelby adjusted her shirt and took her hair out of the ponytail while Caleb saw to the guns.

“Ready?” he asked.

Shelby walked up to him, closer than they’d been in a while, and ran her fingers through his hair. It wasn’t gentle, and he hissed when she did it, but followed the pull of her fingers, leaving the pale column of his neck exposed. 

No, nothing had changed. Nothing important, anyway.

“Let’s go,” she said.

When they finally made it out of the sniper room, Shelby’s eyes deliberately unfocused and Caleb’s hands loose and shaking on her hips, Mark took one look at them and rolled his eyes. “Next time, leave me out of your freaky sex games, okay?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Weaver,” Shelby answered, grinning, and turned to the elevator.

In the elevator, Caleb didn’t stop shaking. If anything, it was worse, because he was trying to pretend that he wasn’t—holding his arms around him and looking everywhere but at her. 

“Caleb…”

“I’m fine,” he interrupted, pressing the heel of his palm against his forehead, and Shelby walked forward, pulling the hand down so she could see his face.

His hand was still shaking, and she ran her thumb soothingly over his knuckles.

“No,” she said. “You’re not.” She almost asked him _what’s wrong_ , before quickly realizing how stupid that would be. Shelby might be the only person who knew everything wrong with him—his family, their breakup, being abandoned so soon after feeling close to her…

At this point, the better question was what _wasn’t_ wrong. 

He glanced at her, looking pale, and needy, and beautiful. 

“I miss you,” he said. 

“How can I help,” she asked, and pressed harder into his palm when he rolled his eyes. “I’m serious, Caleb. You’re shaking like a leaf, and if you keep abusing administrator's privileges like that, one of them’s going to turn you in eventually. Are nights really that hard for you?”

He looked down at their hands, still entwined. They’d stopped shaking at least. Now they were just alone…in an elevator. Shelby felt a pulse of heat. 

Caleb’s eyes fluttered, and he closed his eyes. “Not just nights,” he breathed, quiet like a hard-won admission. He turned his hand in hers, so Shelby could feel his pulse racing beneath her fingers. 

She knew what he wanted. What was worse, was that she wanted it too. She’d wanted it ever since the first moment she’d seen him, watching her through his lashes during lecture. Shelby remembered the first time they’d had sex in that lecture room too, and her thighs clenched automatically.

Observant as always, Caleb looked up at her, smirking.

“No,” she said firmly.

Caleb grinned. “Why Miss Wyatt,” he pronounced, and didn’t even need to finish his sentence. Shelby had said no before he’d even said anything. Which meant that she knew what he was thinking…because she was thinking it too.

He was right, but that wasn’t the point. “No,” Shelby repeated, but when the elevator stopped, she didn’t go back to her own room. Instead, she dragged him down the hallway to one of the empty rooms, locking it behind her with one hand.

“Shelby,” he started, but she interrupted him, scared of what he might say, how he might convince her—Caleb was always good at getting past her defenses.

“Sex isn’t the answer, Caleb,” she said, but he was already 2 steps ahead of her.

“And what you’re doing is? Have you done anything but work in the past 2 months?” he asked, worry warring with righteous indignation on his face. “Have you smiled? Have you slept?”

No, no, and not well were the answers to that, and he could see as much in her face. 

“I haven’t either,” he said, almost whining now, and she shuddered at the sound, her hands itching with muscle memory. “I miss you.”

“Caleb…

“I need you,” he added, voice breaking, and she could see how badly he wanted to touch her, but he didn’t. His hands were clenched tightly behind his back.

He was still trying. Even now, even after all this time. He was still trying. 

Caleb laughed a nervous laugh. “Come on, Miss Wyatt,” he said. “Don’t leave a guy hanging, will you?”

His eyes were bright and blue and his lower lip was trembling.

“Do you even know what the word patience means?” Shelby asked.

Caleb shook his head, almost pouting now. She would scold him for it if it wasn’t really really working for her. And he knew it. 

“No, Miss Wyatt, I don’t. Teach me?”

She smiled despite herself. “You’re so…

“Cocky? Brazen? Impudent?”

“I hate you,” Shelby muttered.

“You love me,” Caleb shot back, and she had no response to that. Because she did. She still loved him. She loved him with all of her heart, and being alone in this tiny room wasn’t doing anything t curb her body’s conditioned reaction to him.

“What I was _going_ to say was impetuous,” she said finally, and Caleb grinned, walking up to her with his hands behind his back like he didn’t know what to do with them. As always, even though his mouth was a pain in the ass, his body knew exactly where it belonged. 

Caleb hummed, then stood in front of her and kneeled on the ground, head bowed.

“Then teach me a lesson.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr. It's embarrassing. Come by if you want to say hi or request a fic :-)
> 
> sussoria.tumblr.com


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